


dark presences in dark alleys; equilibrium

by Michinokao



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Deal with a Devil, Demon John Watson, Gen, I don't know when this takes place lol, It Just Does, Maybe it's victorian? Who knows!, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sherlock is a Mess, but it's technically a x-over so i tagged it accordingly, minor crossover, you don't need to know black butler to read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28591266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michinokao/pseuds/Michinokao
Summary: Sherlock’s drugged and bleeding when he meets the demon.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Kudos: 18





	dark presences in dark alleys; equilibrium

Sherlock’s head was not in the right place when he met the talking dog. Generally, dogs should not talk (and he’s pretty sure of that fact, too) but as it watched him with warm eyes and approached his steadily bleeding-out body casually, he didn’t feel threatened by its presence even when it then opened its large, sharp-toothed muzzle and said: “You smell like danger.”

“Danger? How does danger smell to you?” Sherlock asked, drugged and stabbed as he was.

The creature barked out a laugh. It didn’t look evil, not at first glance, but its navy blue orbs that stood in stark contrast to the dirty blond fur and the foggy black mist that followed it like a trail let it appear surreal. A dog it was. Normal it was not. _Other-worldly_ , Sherlock labelled it in his palace.

“Hm. Danger smells like adrenaline and cocaine. Like tobacco. My, my, so much tobacco. It smells like someone who can’t stop because people’s lives are on the line; someone who won’t sleep when he’s tired and someone who won’t eat when he’s hungry because he likes wandering on the edge. Danger smells like Sherlock Holmes. But I suppose you already knew.” the dog answered, sitting right in front of the consulting detective. Only now the latter noticed the former’s slit irises.

The black mist gently wavered around Sherlock, warmer than expected – almost like a human presence. Almost like a pair of hands trying to reassuringly touch him.

Blood pooled steadily out of the sizeable wound that some unimportant henchman gifted him. “I won’t survive this.” crossed the sleuth’s mind. He was not afraid. He’d never feared death like others, for death was only a natural conclusion to him. A circumstance he could not control. Something that seemed to occur right in this moment.

Sherlock concentrated on the dog rather than on his fading senses. (His toes were numb already.) “I suspected, yes. You sound as if you intimately know danger. Ah. You were a soldier, once.” He nodded at the scar on the being’s shoulder, “You had to fight but you didn’t enjoy the blood or the corpses. What you enjoyed was the danger. And now you’re here because I smell of it. You miss it. Say, what are you? A demon or a spirit?”

Another amused bark. “ _Excellent_! I’m a demon and I truly was a soldier... a long time ago. Of course, you are also right in your assessments. Firstly, I miss danger. Secondly, you _are_ currently on the verge of dying. That’s why I thought to intervene before that happened. Sherlock Holmes, would you like to strike a deal?”

“A... a deal?” he asked weakly between pained huffs.

“A deal. I will grant you life with me as your companion for the price of, let’s say... your soul?”

Had he been a bit less drugged or a bit less delirious from the blood loss, Sherlock might’ve reconsidered the offer. He might’ve even thought what it would mean to lose one’s soul. Though, Sherlock unluckily was drugged and he also was exstremely delirious. And there still were criminals to catch. Cases to solve. Oh, so many cases to solve. London was a cesspool of crime... it was ecstatic for someone like him, to be honest.

“Sounds like a deal to me.”

The dog’s maw twisted into a smile. Not even its smile, which should’ve been tainted with malicious intent, made Sherlock question his spontaneous decision.

Alas, the indescribable pain of a claim being burnt into his forehead would have, had he been able to grasp a single thought during those few unbearable seconds while it was carved, stamped, slit into virgin skin.

“Oh. Your forehead, of all places? What a particular spot for such a mark. Intimate.”

A man spoke to Sherlock.

The pain was slowly drifting away from his body. Was it unconsciousness trying to claim him or were it those materialized fingers, born from mist, massaging his temples?

“I was not only a soldier, you know? I was a healer back then, first and foremost.” the stranger told him calmly.

When Sherlock found his words again, he let out a snort before following the sound up with: “A healing demon? _Incredible_. And ironic.”

“Incredible? Well. Um. Thank you?” the dog-turned-man sounded... _embarrassed_?

Steadying himself on one of the hellish being’s shoulders, Sherlock gained his equilibrium. He rolled his shoulders, looked down and took in his contract partner’s appearance fully. A short but well-built man in a casual woollen sand-coloured vest draped over a white shirt greeted him with a welcoming quirk of his lips.

Just as he’d gained all of his senses, a bell in Sherlock’s head rung. “Come on, we’ll need to catch the head of a drug cartel!”

“What. No, you just...” the demon’s smile froze on his face. He obviously didn’t think it a good idea to chase after a criminal after having nearly bitten the grass, no matter his demonic healing prowess.

“Head. of. a. drug. cartel!” Sherlock yelled over his shoulder mid-sprint, leaving the bewildered man to catch up with him.

“You’re absolutely insane!” came from the sleuth’s side, “God, I love it already!”

Sherlock grinned. Only then he thought to ask: “What’s your name?”

“Whatever you want it to be!”

Black waves whipped in the wind as icy blue eyes assessed the demon. “Doctor John Watson!” he blurted out, mouth corners unwittingly drawn up high.

John replied with a bright grin. 

**Author's Note:**

> ...but how is he going to tell Mycroft? 
> 
> "Brother,  
> I have acquired a companion. You always said no other human would appreciate my crude company. You were right. However, the fact that John is a demon doesn't diminish his worth - if anything, I think it's a great boon. The only downside is my new status as soulless... Although, some may argue I've always been just that. I merely wanted to inform you of this development because I wouldn't want you to cause a scene while discovering the admittedly enormous demonic mark on my forehead.   
> \- SH" 
> 
> tumblr: @droplet-dread-cat (for everything)  
> @michinokao (for art)


End file.
